Johnny Mathis Singing Me to Peace

I live with a lot of anxiety. Sometimes it’s about specific things like making a request to someone that I’m afraid will reject me. Other times, it’s more general—part of growing up steeped in the fear of a vengeful god who could inexplicably and cruelly mete out punishment or snatch away loved ones.

I recently discovered an unusual but extremely effective way of soothing my pretty-much-daily anxiety: Johnny Mathis.

Let me explain…

Recently I have been reading Stephen Porges’ book The Pocket Guide to the Polyvagal Theory (because apparently I like reading about the nervous system in my down time)…no, but seriously, his polyvagal theory has been mentioned in so many places, from grad school to herbal conferences, that I felt the need to buy something directly from the source to learn more about the “science of feeling safe” as he terms it. He just happened to release a new book around the time that I was looking for something by him to read (yay synchronicity!!).

In the book, he talks about the way that tone, inflection, and quality of a voice can send neuroceptive (referring to the unconscious perception of the nervous system) messages, cuing us for either feeling safe or threatened.

I’m sure we can all think of a time when someone said something but their voice belied the content of what they said–the quintessential “I’m fine” with an edge that subsequently put us on edge. That’s an example of the neuroception of prosody, e.g. picking up on a “threat” in someone’s voice.

Well, it also works the other way around. We can pick up on cues that someone is “safe” by their vocals, which in turn can help us feel comfortable and relaxed.

Somewhat in passing as he was describing this neuroceptive ability, Porges mentioned that Johnny Mathis’ voice has the qualities that tend to make people feel safe.

So…what do I do? I trot off to look up this singer that I had never heard before…and I fell in love. I literally can’t get enough of listening to him; he makes me feel so calm!

A quick perusal of discussions and comments regarding Polyvagal Theory reveals that I’m not the only one who finds Mathis fascinatingly effective. I wouldn’t be surprised if a movement of “Johnny Mathis therapy” began thanks to Porges’ plug.

Of course, Mathis is not the only one whose voice can cue a sense of calm and safety. It’s not that he has a magical voice; it’s about how he uses his voice.

I hear similar qualities in other crooners like Nat King Cole as well as in the voices of people like Kristen Chenoweth and Karen Carpenter. I hope to be able to make a whole “anxiety soothing” playlist that I can turn on whenever I feel on edge.

It’s such an unusual but simple, inexpensive, and accessible method of soothing my hyper-vigilant nervous system. And now that I know what I’m looking for (having heard and felt it), I can look for ways to literally set myself up for feeling safe.

Curious? Listen to one of my favorites below!

Wellness vs. Wholeness: Breaking Out of the Mental Illness Paradigm

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the terms that we use to describe our various states of mental health, and some brain vomit got into the computer. 😉 Have fun with this one!

“Mental Illness” has both lost and gained popularity in the last few years. Those who like it do so because they want to legitimize mental health challenges as real challenges people face just like any other health problems. I understand their motivations, but I tend to be on the side of hating the term. It feels clinical, sterile, othering, and disempowering when I think about applying the label to myself. It makes me feel like I need to be fixed, which is not something I believe, despite my strong identification with my PTSD (and let’s face it, I probably have an anxiety diagnosis as well…or could if I don’t). I might be wounded, but I’m not someone’s lab project.

The other popular phrase I’ve encountered in the peer movement is “mental wellness.” On the surface it sounds better. It attempts to emphasize strength over weakness and de-stigmatize mental health. For some reason, though, it still leaves me with the an emotional gag reflex (ooh, remember this post?). I want to smack anyone who asks me what my wellness plan is.

Perhaps by itself, mental wellness wouldn’t irritate me so much if it weren’t for the language surrounding the wellness idea. Questions like, “what do I look like and act like when I’m well?”

I know the answer they’re looking for is “cheerful, happy, good, upbeat, calm, peaceful” and other such saccharine words, but I don’t think that’s wellness. My mental wellness plan doesn’t involve trying to maintain happy or taking emergency action because I feel sad.

Ultimately, though, I think my aversion to “mental wellness” comes from the fact that it’s still working within the dichotomy of wellness/illness. It’s a paradigm within which I don’t even want to operate for my mental health because it sets up certain experiences as inherently “unwell.”

I prefer to think of my mental state as being somewhere on the spectrum of wholeness or fragmentation.

When I’m fragmented, I’m not connected or engaged with parts of myself. I’m suppressing emotions, thoughts, memories, desires, maybe even experiences. I disconnect from my psyche, either entirely ignoring valid emotions or becoming stuck in them. Fragmentation interrupts my daily functioning and interferes with my relationships.

Maybe that sounds like what most people think of as “illness” or “unwellness,” yet I have found that fragmentation can involve happiness. If I’m stuck in happiness, refusing to move through my process by maniacally inducing a feeling of “good,” then my happiness is as detrimental to my wellbeing and wholeness as depression or anger can be.

On the flip side, when I’m moving towards wholeness, I’m integrating all of the parts of myself and actively engaging in my process. Sometimes that means that I’ll be joyous and upbeat. Sometimes it means I’ll be balling my eyes out or screaming into a pillow. The difference isn’t what I’m feeling in that moment. The difference is in whether I’m engaging informatively.

No emotion is inherently unhealthy, negative, dangerous, or bad. All of them have a place in being a whole person. The only thing that can be unhealthy, negative, dangerous, or bad are the scripts we apply to our emotions…and one of those scripts, I’m starting to think, might be the script of mental wellness.

If I am moving in my process, no matter what emotion I’m experiencing, I can be well if I am connected to myself. Healing isn’t about moving towards good feelings. It’s not always about “getting better” or “recovering.”  It’s about moving towards integration of all our aspects.

 

Supporting a Loved One Through PTSD or Panic Attacks

This cartoon (from Robot Hugs), in my opinion, illustrates the perfect way to handle every PTSD or anxiety episode. If I could actually live inside a blanket fort forever, I would.

Unfortunately, flashbacks, panic attacks, nightmares, intrusive thoughts, memories, triggers, and all those other lovely things that survivors have to live with don’t have the courtesy to always wait for blanket forts to be available.

It’s scary for the person experiencing the attack, but it’s also scary for any loved ones who are trying to comfort and support someone through an attack.

This post is for the supporters.

Often in the midst of the episode, the distressed person doesn’t necessarily have their full vocabulary and can’t articulate exactly what they need in that moment. Afterwards, they may avoid talking about it out of embarrassment, fear, or a desire to preserve the peacefulness of the present.

So how do you learn what is helpful?

If you’re like my partner, mostly through trial and error. However, this cartoon inspired me to draw up a list of tips, taking from my own preferences as well as those of some friends. They’re not universal, but they’re a starting point, I think, for the right mindset.

Safety

Usually when someone is having an episode, they’re not actually in danger. Their body just thinks they are in danger. The first step to helping anyone is to remind them of their safety. It seems obvious, but just telling them they’re going to be okay can alleviate some of the stress of what’s happening.

However, please note that reassuring someone they are okay is not the same thing as minimizing the trigger or their response. Making fun of the trigger, ordering them to stop, scoffing at their response—those will exacerbate the situation rather than help it, and you may find yourself on the do-not-trust list in the future.

Anchoring

Someone who is experiencing a flashback or panic attack needs to have something to hold onto, to bring them back to themselves, and to put them in the present moment.

Jess M. mentions that shuffling cards, counting toothpicks, and other similar tasks helps her.

Dani, in her post from Friday, writes how important breath is in grounding. “Tell me to breathe, and then deliberately breathe for me so I have a rhythm to focus on and match.”

To be honest, telling me to breathe would probably make me swear at you. I prefer to have the “first aid box” that my therapist inspired me to create.  It’s filled with a range of things like incense, pictures, or slips of paper with quotes on them. Depending on what my trigger is, different things will speak to me at different times.

Obviously, these anchoring techniques differ from individual to individual and from situation to situation, but the goal is to gently engage the senses in a way that brings them back to the “here and now.”

Touch (Use with extreme caution!)

Touch can be one of the most beneficial ways of supporting someone through an episode, or it can be one of the most impairing. Touch is going to be incredibly specific to personal preferences and situations.

Dani states, “Sometimes it grounds me and gives me a point of reference. But I need whoever is with me to pay very very close attention to my body language when they touch me. Often I’m not able to speak to tell you whether where your touching is okay, and probably the only hint you’ll get that your touch is bad is that I’ll tense up all over.”

I like to be touched for the most part, but if touch brought on the panic attack (someone hugging me from behind or touching me without permission), then touch makes me practically feral. Sometimes I like to be cocooned in my partner’s arms so that I feel like nothing else can get to me. Other times, I desperately need to feel like I’m not trapped.

If you’re close to the person you’re trying to support, chances are you know whether they prefer touch or not. If you don’t know the person all that well, it may be better to just avoid touch altogether.

However, regardless of whether you know them or not, it’s always best to ask permission before touching. “Is it okay if I put my hand on your back?” “Is it okay if I hug you?” “Is it okay if I hold your hand?”

This is particularly important for anyone who has a history of sexual trauma or abuse since touch has so often been used to hurt.

Recuperation

Once the storm settles down, there are still residual effects. Don’t expect things to jump back to normal immediately. Fatigue usually follows, both physically and emotionally.

Some people, like Dani, will prefer spectator activities that don’t require much engagement. Others, like Angela and Jess M. prefer absorbing activities like reading or organizing. I tend to go for animated movies with happy endings or card games. However, Keith, John, and Jess D. all expressed that quiet was important for their recuperation.

Dani highlights the importance of providing simple options to choose from and of introducing those options slowly. Perhaps start out with some quiet sitting or some calm music, then in a little while suggest a few non-taxing activities that the person typically enjoys. Blanket forts are good here if you can build one.

Talk

Like touch, talking can be either good or bad.

Carol P. tells me that questions make things worse for her.

Machelle expresses that, “Sometimes I go deep inside of myself and I don’t come out until I have ‘it’ figured out. Other times I need to talk, talk, talk it all out.”

It’s a good idea to ask if they want to talk about what they’re feeling, thinking, or experiencing. Give them a lot of space to speak up because it can take a long time for someone to work up the courage to talk about their anxieties or traumas.

But don’t push.

It’s not necessary for you, the supporter, to know what is going on in order to lend support. Sometimes, the fact that you’re willing to sit there in silence, comfortable with not knowing, is enough to get someone to open up. It’s like a signal that tells them that you’re not going to push them for information they don’t feel comfortable giving, nor are you going to become so impatient with their process that you leave them hanging.

But even if they never tell you what was going on in their world at the time, that’s okay. They need that space, that right to keep their truth to themselves. It may feel like you’re abandoning them in their emotions, but respecting them in their choice not to talk is more supportive than forcing them to disclose.

Plan ahead

I hope that this post has given you some ideas of how you can support your loved one through crises, but the most important thing you can do to support someone is talk about it ahead of time. Let them know that you are interested in supporting them and ask them to articulate what they need in those times. Maybe even compile a first aid box together.

(And if you’re the person in need of support, don’t be afraid to send this post to your supporters and start a discussion of what the best way to support you would be).

Disclaimer: These tips are based on my own preferences as well as the feedback of several others who volunteered information for this post. They are not based on an official model of crisis management and should not be used as professional training. Their value comes from the direct feedback of those who are living with PTSD or panic attacks, but they are neither universal nor comprehensive. If you have a loved one with PTSD or panic attacks, I encourage you to get some educational books as well. Having more information will help you be a better supporter. 

This post is copyrighted. While I love it when others share my blog, I’ve come across several places where over half of this blog entry has been copied onto other websites without proper authorization or citation. I don’t think it’s been done maliciously, but it does violate my copyright. A sentence or two as a quote is fine as long as it clearly references Sometimes Magical as the author/source, but if you wish to use a paragraph or more for any reason (and linking doesn’t seem to suffice for your needs), my authorization is needed. I’m willing to work with other blogs or websites that wish to use my material as long as the proper form is followed with regard to credit and permission. You can refer to my Copyright policy if you have any questions. This blog entry represents alot of hard work, both on my end and on others’. Please respect me and those who contributed to this post by not stealing or misusing our words. Thank you! ❤

Have You Ever Heard of a Superstitious Witch?

I normally keep my spellwork pretty quiet, partially because it’s none of people’s business. But if I were extremely honest with myself, I’d also have to admit that I’m afraid—not of the people who would think I was evil. Ironically, the prejudiced and terrified are fun to poke with my non-traditional beliefs. Rather, I’m afraid of those who will think that I am silly and superstitious.

I know when people find out that I create my own brand of spirituality by drawing from Paganism, Buddhism, and other religions, many raise an eyebrow at the idea. Why would I trade in the Christian doctrines for another set of rituals and practices?

Sometimes I try to explain the thinking behind the value of choosing your own worldview for the benefits it brings to you. More often than not, I try to emphasize the difference between rituals that are done for fun and rituals done out of sheer terror. But many times I just kind of want to hide because I know that, no matter how good my explanation is, there will always be a handful who will deride the things that have helped me connect to the deeper levels of my self.

I’m not afraid of debate, but for some reason, I’ve been afraid of judgment. Up until recently, I felt almost as if someone else’s disdain could destroy the joy I get from my own practice simply by making me feel silly.

But when the impending visit of my family left me feeling anxious, trapped, desperate, and helpless, I turned to the one thing I knew would work.

Magic.

When my partner offered to help with the housework OCD/anxiety supergirl cleaning rituals, I didn’t shrug him off and wait until he left the apartment so he wouldn’t laugh at me. Instead, I handed him a jar of my freshly made Protection Wash from Mrs. B’s Guide to Household Witchery and told him he had to use that to mop with.

I didn’t silently mutter my incantations as I sprinkled salt in front of my doors. I said them boldly out loud.

When I hung my protection charms (from the same book) by the doors, I didn’t hide them from sight for fear someone might ask what they were.

I was to the point where I didn’t care if others thought I was superstitious because I knew that the spells would serve their purpose for me.

I didn’t care if I was superstitious because I suddenly realized that it’s okay to have a superstition.

I would never try to force someone else to adopt my beliefs or practices. I would never expect the world to conform to them. I wouldn’t want teachers to present them in school. In short, I wasn’t violating my own rules of respect for others’ paths, nor was I trying to claim scientific or academic backing for these rituals.

I can recognize that there’s no scientific evidence that hanging herbs by my door or sprinkling salt across the threshold does anything to actually protect my home. There’s nothing new in that revelation. I have always approached my new path with a sense of agnosticism. I’ve embraced the doubts as part of myself and found that many things retain their value even in the face of doubts.

One of the first things I learned about magic was that it worked less on changing the world around you and more on changing your perspective of the world. Aren’t superstitions the same thing? On Dictionary.com, superstition is defined as “an irrational belief,” “not based on reason or knowledge.” But what about its purpose? People turn to superstitions when they are in an uncomfortable, uncontrollable situation and need something to ground them and give them a sense of power.

In other words, superstitions help people cope when they feel powerless by giving them a means of altering their perspective to an empowered one.

Perhaps a better definition would be unintentional magical thinking for those who don’t claim to believe in magic.

There’s no shame in that. There’s no harm as long as people can recognize when they are making use of a superstition to cope and don’t allow fear to rule their lives (because unlike the dictionary, I don’t think fear and terror are the basis of superstitions).

I could go more into why I think magic is different from superstition—but ultimately, it’s going to come down to something along the lines of “it’s in the eye of the beholder.” The point is, some people pray. Some people put on a lucky shirt. Some people sprinkle salt. But we all have little things we do to help us cope.

My spells worked as they were intended to. They set the foundation for me to protect my sacred space from the potential invasion of others. They helped connect me to my own power in maintaining my boundaries. And in a roundabout way, they helped me realize that my beliefs and practices aren’t subject to the rationale of others. I don’t think magic and superstition are the same. If someone else thinks my path is superstitious, that’s only because they don’t understand my way of thinking.